Beautiful Scars
by theadoptedbrewster
Summary: Emily comes to terms with her scars with the help of a certain FBI Unit Chief. Please R&R!


It wasn't the first time that the team would hang out by the pool after a case, especially a tough one. This one was extremely gruelling, and she was sure that everyone would like to get the images they'd seen over the past week out of their heads as fast as humanly possible. She knew that it wasn't easy. She still remembered a great many faces, a great many horrors that she'd seen on this job. She promised the others she meet them down at the pool when she was ready. So she'd went to her room and dug through her bag, pulling out a bikini that she'd never worn before.

That's how she got here, sobbing like a child in front of the hotel mirror. She was fine when she'd first put the flimsy thing on, but once she looked into the pleading eyes that stared back from her reflection she couldn't help but cry. She didn't know quite what to do with herself, she seen the scars before, traced the raised pink outlines that had marred her porcelain skin. What she didn't think of was showing the others.

She just couldn't face them. She held everything about Ian Doyle bottled up inside her. She didn't want to worry her team, her family. So, she kept it all inside. She was good at that, at keeping everything to herself. She never had anyone to tell when she was a teenager especially after Rome, after Matthew. She always tried to worry about someone else's problems, anything to keep from opening herself up to people. When you opened up to people you could only get hurt.

She'd learned that the hard way, many times over. She just wanted everything to be as it was with the team. They'd finally gotten back to normal, going out like this would just stir up old memories, she didn't want to put them through that. She wanted them to forget, even though she would never be able to. Normally, she would cover up the branding scar with foundation so that the team couldn't see. The scar where the stake pierced through her was in a place where her team members were unlikely to see it, she didn't worry about it as much. She didn't even think they knew about the branding. It begged the question of just how much everyone knew about what had happened in that cellar in Boston, or what had happened in that villa in France. Had they known that she had been prepared to die in that cellar? That she'd done everything for them, to protect them? Did they know that she once was in love with the man who nearly killed her? Did they know that she secretly she wished that Declan was hers?

A sudden knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and she grabbed a nearby robe. She held the top of the robe firmly together, fearing any glimpse of her scar to the knocker. She looked herself over in the mirror, wiping her eyes. Someone would have to look really close to notice that she had been crying. She glanced into the peephole, only to see two familiar brown eyes glancing back at her. She cracked the door open a bit.

"Prentiss." He said, standing outside her door, still in his work suit she might add, while she was in next to nothing. Thank god she'd grabbed the robe.

"Hotch, what are you doing here?" She asked.

"The others are all going swimming and they sent me to see if you were coming or not." He said, as usual, starring at her as if he could see right through her. Of all the people they had to send, they of course sent Hotch. Anyone else she probably could have fooled, said she was too tired or that she wasn't feeling too good. But, when she opened her mouth to lie to him, nothing came out. She just stood there, her mouth open to speak but no sound coming out. She stood, frozen in the silence that his eyes condemned her to.

"Is everything alright?" He asked and she quietly opened the door to let him in, he stepped in and closed the door behind him like the gentleman he was. She wondered what he thought about all this, about her, about her past. What about having to keep that big a secret from the team? That must have been hard, she couldn't even imagine what he had gone through in those seven months. There was no communication between them while she was in Paris but she wished there was. Sometimes she'd stare at the phone, wishing and hoping that it would ring. She just wanted to hear his voice sometimes. She had even searched for press releases online, to keep his voice fresh in her mind. He was staring more intensely now and she had realized that tears had begun to form in the corner of her eyes.

And then she did it, she let everything come tumbling down and crash into the ground. The wall between them, the wall between her and her own feelings. She had to let it out to someone, she need to tell someone everything. She just couldn't keep quiet anymore, she wanted someone to tell, to trust, to know.

It happened without thinking, she clutched his suit jacket in her hands, and buried her face in his chest. She half expected him to pushed her away, tell her that this was inappropriate, _unprofessional. _But, it didn't happen. He simply wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back in small circles, and whispered calming words into her hair as she cried for what seemed like an eternity.

_She must have been dreaming, _she thought as she'd woken up in bed the next morning. She tried to move, get up from the bed but soon realized that there was a muscular arm that was draped over her, the warmth of another human being at her back. She hadn't been dreaming. It was real.

It struck her that she was in just her bathing suit and she was about to panic before every detail of the night before came tumbling back into her brain. Such as when Hotch called her beautiful, tracing the outline of her branding with careful fingers before planting a kiss on her breast bone. She continued to cry during said gesture as he gently touched her, whispering how much he had missed her.

And then he'd told her the three words that she'd always wanted to hear grace her ears. The three words that she knew would never be directed towards her when they did fall from his soft lips.

"_I love you."_

Three little words that made her heart swell, unsettled the butterflies in her stomach. She wiggled herself around, facing the man who was already awake. He whispered the words to her again, trailing kisses down her jaw line. Thank god she was not dreaming, for if she was, she would never want to wake up. In the arms of the man she never dreamed would be hers, she felt something that she never thought she'd feel again.

She felt beautiful.

"I love you too." Were the words she whispered to him before there was a light knocking at the door. The two frazzled agents shot out of bed and Emily grabbed her robe, gesturing for her superior to hide in the bathroom. He did, and after tying her robe she opened the door.

"Hey!" JJ said, beaming. "Where'd you go last night? We sent Hotch looking." She told her, embracing the brunette woman tightly.

"Sorry to worry you Jayje, I fell asleep." She reassured her blue eyed friend with a small smile.

"And you didn't see Hotch?" JJ asked.

"No, I must have already been asleep when he knocked." Emily smoothly lied through her pearly white teeth.

"And yet he didn't come tell us you weren't coming, maybe I should go to his room and show him a piece of my mind." JJ laughed, Emily laughing along before saying,

"I think he's downstairs checking us out. I saw him this morning when I went to grab a snack from the vending machine, wheels up in an hour he'd said. I better get ready. I'll see you in the lobby in a bit, Jayje." She said, perhaps a little too fast as the blonde agreed and said she'd chew Hotch out on the jet before walking down the hall to her own room. Emily let out a sigh of relief as she closed the door, beckoning Hotch out of the bathroom. She laughed as she had finally got a good look at him, his suit jacket and pants were wrinkled, his hair a mess. It was just hilarious to see her unit chief in that state.

He gave her a sly half smile as she laughed at him.

"I should probably go check us all out like you said I was." He told her, kissing her. She wondered if it would always feel so wonderful when his lips touched hers, forever that spark of heat and electricity between them.

"Yes, you should, but before you do that I would suggest a comb and a change of suit. Oh, and leaving your subordinate's hotel room sans being hammered by questions would also be acceptable." She smirked up at him as he agreed and left. She half expected him to come running back into the room, clothes torn and sweating from trying to escape whichever of their team mates had seen him leave her room. She giggled at the thought. She pulled off her robe and looked in the mirror. She lightly traced her scars beneath the pads of her fingers before whispering "You're beautiful." to her reflection.

She then packed the rest of her things and pulled on dress pants and a low-cut red top, and this time she didn't hurry to grab makeup as she normally did, she simply, grabbed her things, held her head up and braved the world as nothing but herself.

Scars and all.


End file.
